Thursday, February 17, 2011

Entrance of the Maze

People have always talked about great things throughout all of history. Warriors, Gods, cities, empires, weapons, the list goes on and on and on. Almost everything of notice has been talked about by more than one tongue if it has gotten enough noise behind it. Alas, it seems that everyone wants to make a mark on history, mainly so that way they are no longer forgotten in this mystery we all seem to deem "Life." While some want to have a better say in how they want to shape the future, I'm simply okay with doing what little I can at the moment to help out future generations and to help those out in need at this time.


But, I'm getting a bit ahead of myself now aren't I? Looks like I've got a bit of explaining to do.

While my name isn't of much importance, those around me prefer to call me Daedalus, after the famous Greek inventor. I do not see why they decided to start that, but I enjoy the name nonetheless. I am currently twenty-four, no no, make that twenty-five years old since last week. For the last year, I have had a pretty decent career choice, although in order to get some second opinions on this thing, I've decided to post some recent discussions with my patients here. But, let's start with a bit of backstory first, shall we?

When I was twenty-three years of age, I had just graduated from college with a degree to become a therapist and help people of the world with their problems. Facing their fears, dealing with Daddy issues, y'know, the stuff that people like me would deal with for the rest of our lives. Almost a year later, I was working for a place full-time, starting off with people who had been having nervous break-downs and/or reoccurring nightmares that were disrupting their everyday life. At first, it seemed to be going well. I had set up video cameras to record my patients and help analyze things about them that I could pick up on a second look at them, and everything had been running smoothly.

Last month I got a patient, let's just call him Jon, that has been having breakdowns that have made him quit his job and try to hide under his blanket at home for hours on end. When I first met him, I thought he was just going to be another one of those patients I see three times a week to see if I can help him out with his problems. But, after the first few sessions, I could almost... tell something was odd. Every visit, he would sit there, not saying anything. At first, I thought it was just another phase of a patient, and that he would outgrow it. Putting it down on my notes once or twice, I didn't really think much of it for a while. But, every visit he would grow silent, not responding to anything that I said, or anything I did.

A week ago, I got a call at my apartment in the middle of the night. The police were on the other end, urgently needing me to come to Jon's house and talk him out of killing himself. Understanding the urgency of the situation, I got in my car and quickly drove to his house, seeing a line of SWAT cars there to try and help out the situation. They put a wire on me so they can hear our conversation, and six minutes later I am walking into Jon's house by means of the front door. There were no lights on, but luckily someone had been kind enough to lend me a flashlight so I can see inside. I heard Jon's voice in the other room, and so I start to walk there. But, even as I do, I feel like... something is off. It was a bit too quiet for my liking.

Inside Jon's room, it looked like a tornado had it it full force. Clothes scattered and torn every which way, magazines and papers ripped up on the floor, I think I remember a television being thrown into a wall. But what I remember most? Jon lying on his bed, speaking inconceivable languages. There was a gun near him, but at the moment he didn't seem to notice. Jon was simply staring out the window of the room, as if trying to see what was there while laying in his jumble of talking. As I'm staring at him, a few words appear here and there: Man, follow, black, thin, everywhere. About two minutes later, Jon seems to have a seizure of sorts, as his body starts flailing rapidly and in all directions, his eyes seeming to look at everywhere at once. Before I could even react, a team stormed the house, finding me in Jon's room quickly, before tending to Jon. They escorted me outside, assuring me that he would be alright, but for now they'd be transferring him to a medical ward, and that I would still be seeing him soon.

Yesterday I had my first chat with Jon, although I am still trying to decipher what all he said. Hopefully I can figure it out before my next appointment with him. I will be working all night on figuring out what he said, and hopefully I can have notes of it up by tomorrow.

But for now, live long and prosper, my fellow Earthlings.

-Daedalus

Song of the Day: Sell Your Soul by Hollywood Undead. It's got a nice ring to it, doesn't it?

No comments:

Post a Comment